


You Thought Wrong

by 01_WishfulThinking_10



Category: Carry On - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Alternate Universe - Normal High School, Baz is over school, Canon Gay Relationship, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, First Impressions, First Love, Flirty Agatha, Friendship, Getting to Know Each Other, Loneliness, M/M, Minor Character(s), Penelope takes simon in, Popular Baz, Present Tense, Simon is the new kid, Tattoos, Watford is a normal highschool, agatha tries to flirt with baz and simon, fuck the mage, gtfo, he's been expelled way too many times, life sucks you know?, same tho, the mage is the principal, too bad they're both gay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-03
Updated: 2017-11-13
Packaged: 2018-12-23 13:56:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11991225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/01_WishfulThinking_10/pseuds/01_WishfulThinking_10
Summary: Baz's life seems great. He's from a rich family, He's super smart, He's freakishly popular and dozens of girls would do anything to be with him.Yet he's not happy.He is broken from his mother's death and ignored by the rest of his family.He is the sort of lonely that only comes from being surrounded by people that know nothing about the real you and don't care to find out either.And he is secretly, completely and utterly gay. Of course.Now he has another problem. In the form of a boy.Simon Snow.





	1. Something Unforeseen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No Baz, it's not 'just another day of school'  
> You thought wrong.

The first day of school is always a bore to me. It’s not exciting but I don't dread it either. It's just like every other day of school. The only difference is that I have different rooms, classmates and teachers. All things I adjust to with ease. The only other that changes that I notice is the levels of respect and awe I receive each year. Increasing with age. I've learnt I'm a legend to each new batch of first and second years. I've heard the whispers;

 

_…That one, the tall one with the black hair…._

_…surrounded by people…_

_…possible to be that popular…?_

_…all the girls think he's hot…_

_…nicknamed Vampire…_

_…Watch out for him…_

_…Stay out of his way._

 

I got the nickname when I was younger. I had lost my mother, my dad had shut everyone out in his depression and neglected me. I was incredibly hostile to all other people because of this. I wanted people to leave me alone. So when someone tried to interact with me, whether they had good intentions or not, I would bite them. I wasn’t strong or smart enough as a little kid to hurt in any other way. I bit my friends, my teacher, my family's help staff, everyone.

When I finally snapped out of it and eventually tried to reconnect with my peers, they had given me the label 'Vampire'. It was pretty stupid, there are plenty of other things that bite, and I had thought it would die down after a while because of this. The sick joke was, as I grew up, I gained a pale, even greyish, complexion from all my time spent inside. My hair only stokes the fire, being dead black and longish, best worn slicked back.

 

I digress. The point is, I've grown used to the tiresome routine of each school year. I'm the soccer team captain, I'm desirably popular, I complete my schoolwork easily and perfectly and if I ever wanted a girlfriend, there'd be dozens to choose from.

Too bad I'm gay.

Not that I've ever told anyone. I doubt they'd believe me, what with me playing along with Wellbelove's charade and all…

>>> 

I reach my locker silently, ignoring the way the crowd parts for me, and start reaching for the books I'll be needing today. When I close the metal door, I see Dev and Niall who are probably the only people I'd actually consider something like friends. Niall is standing there, bored and plain-faced while Dev munches on a packet of chips.

 

"Ay Baz" Dev says through a mouthful of sour cream and chive flavoured chips. I scrunch my nose, I'm more of a salt and vinegar guy. Niall flicks his head at me in greeting.

 

"Good morning Gentlemen" I say sarcastically. It's not a good morning and neither are they gentlemen of any sort.

 

"Another school year, another bunch of first-years to terrify…" Niall says, a mean smirk on his face

 

"…Another year to sit through where nothing ever happens…" I yawn.

 

"…And another year of Wellbelove trying to woo Basil" finishes Dev. Niall gives a small bark of laughter and Dev continues;

 

"Ah, Agatha Wellbelove…" he muses "The Sexy Angel of Watford"

He makes curve motions with his hands as if outlining her figure and Niall punches him on the arm, shaking his head with both a disgusted and amused look on his face.

 

The bell rings so I saunter off to class, Literature. I claim a spot at the back as the room slowly fills up. The usual chatter patters around me and I overhear everyone's holiday endeavours. Soon, all but two seats are filled up and I'm about to sigh with relief before the very person I was dreading being here struts into the room.

This year her hair is a light purple, contrasting with her darkish skin. Red pointed glasses perched on her nose and an armful of books straining her arms. I sigh grudgingly; I had hoped not to have competition in this class but no luck.

 

Another year of dealing with Penelope Bunce.

 

She sits at the last remaining table, at the front, and places her books down. She seems to know that no one will be sitting with her as she doesn’t hesitate to spread her textbooks out on the desk space next to her. She hasn't spotted me yet and I can only hope she won't for as long as possible.

Soon Ms Possibelf, the Literature teacher, walks in and starts the lesson. I'm only half listening to her talk about the texts we'll be studying this year when there's a knock at the classroom door.

 

"Oh! That'll be the new student then" Ms Possibelf says and I hear the titter of student’s surprise. Maybe I'd be more surprised if I actually cared. But I don't, so I'm not.

The English teacher opens the door and I see her talking to the principal. I dislike the principal immensely. He doesn't seem to ever be around enough to actually care for the school and its development, I think he's unworthy. When I came here as a first year, the only thing I knew about him was that he'd earned himself the nickname 'The Mage'. Why he got it, I have no idea. Maybe it's because he's always disappearing like some magic trick.

 

The two adults must have ended their conversation because a moment later Ms Possibelf stands back from the doorway to let the teenager in. I'm not looking at them, I couldn't care less about them, instead I watch the class’s reaction. It's been a while since we've had someone knew here and I can almost hear their thoughts simply by looking at their expressions.

_Fresh meat_

 

"Quiet down class, please" Ms Possibelf tuts "This is Simon, our new student"

The class is silent for a long while before someone says, jokingly "Hey Simon!"

A few laughs ring before the teacher shushes them.

 

"Thank you Gareth" she says without sounding one bit thankful "Why don't you introduce yourself Simon?" she simpers and I hear a few people groan quietly.

 

"Uhm… ok?" a masculine voice answers, I look up. Standing there is a teenage boy. He has blondish-brown hair that is probably best described as bronze. It's longish but curly on top and shaved on the sides and back, although it looks like it's grown out a bit since it was cut. His light golden skin is dotted with freckles and moles. His eyes are the bluest eyes I've ever seen, I can see them clearly from the back of the room. He looks about as tall as me. He's sorta lanky so his uniform is slightly ill-fitting but he's got broad shoulders. I don't realise I'm staring until he steps forward and clears his throat. I immediately force myself to look relaxed as looks around at his new classmates.

 

"Uh, So I'm Simon… Simon Snow" he grunts. Snickers sound around me and I would feel inclined follow suit if it didn't feel hypocritical. I mean, how do you judge a guy called Snow when your own name is Tyrannus Basilton Grimm Pitch?

And besides, I don't think I could laugh at him. Even if I wanted to.

 

"Yeah, I know it's a stupid name…" he says, as if he'd received the same feedback a dozen times "but uh… I'm going to be coming here ‘cause I got expelled from my last school".

I huff quietly. He said it as if being expelled never happens to anyone else.

 

"This is my eighth school" he continues and I feel my eyes widen. Judging from the whispers around me, I'm not the only one who's taken aback.

 

_Eighth?!_

 

"Guess I'm lucky this place took me in at all" he shrugs, scratching the back of his neck "Uh, yeah… that’s all" he finishes, looking to Ms Possibelf who looks just as baffled as the rest of the class. She seems to snap back too attention though, and stands up from her desk again.

 

"Ahem, yes… thank you Simon…" she adopts her 'everything is great' voice again. “Why don't you go sit down now… next to Penelope?" she says as if asking Bunce to make room for him. Bunce sighs but clears her books away and Snow slouches over to his new seat.

 

The rest of the lesson proceeds without incident until Ms Possibelf declares that the first homework task will be a small partnered oral presentation about a piece of literature (meaning book, short story, poem or otherwise) that we think everyone should read. It sounds easy and whoever I end up with will probably benefit greatly, but as I leave when the bell rings I overhear Bunce talking to the new boy.

 

"-no one wants to partner with me, and you've got no friends yet" she seems to be reasoning with him. His face looks blank. "So it makes sense to work together right?"

 

"Besides, I'll do most of the work if you want. This stuff is child's play to me" she boasts and I hear Snow grunt in assent.

 

"Great! I'll-" she cuts herself off when I walk past "Oh hello _Vampire_ " she say says icily. I keep walking but stick the finger in her direction without even looking at her.

 

Just before I get out of earshot, I hear her speak again, to him.

"That's Tyrannus Basilton Grimm Pitch. Take my advice and stay ** _far_** away from him"

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEYHEYHEY  
> This is my first (non-oneshot) Carry On fic, so tell me what you think.  
> Some characters in this story will seem out of character at first, but that’s part of the story so don't worry. You'll get your cinnamon roll Simon yet :D
> 
> Could someone please confirm that Niall is Baz's best friend and Dev is his cousin? I can't find the exact moment when it says who's his cuz so I'm not sure ._.
> 
> Anyways, thanks for reading  
> Love,
> 
> ~Wishful


	2. Something Forgotton

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Simon, of course you can have friends  
> You thought wrong

Penelope keeps switching between asking my opinion, scribbling down ideas, searching things up on her laptop and lapsing into thoughtful silence. I've barely said a word since we got to the library which is mostly fine by me, but I feel guilty about letting her do all the work of a partner project. It's strange, for someone who seems to hold her education in an extremely high regard, she doesn't seem the slightest bit fazed by my 7 expulsions. I like it. Usually when I've told people at past schools this, they've treated me like some unstable bomb that could go off with the slightest poke. She just treats me like she pities the fact that I'm not quite as smart as her, which is fine with me because not only is it true, but I'm pretty sure that's how she treats everybody. It's part of her confidence. I keep finding myself wishing we were friends.

But I'm willing to bet that after we do this presentation, she'll be back to her straight A's and online college courses and I'll be back to sitting alone and wistfully looking out the window.

Great.

 

"…I definitely think we should use that quote here…" she murmurs, half to me and half to herself, and I sigh in reply.  
The library door squeaks open and I turn my head to see. A girl stands in the entrance way, her light golden hair is long and floaty, framing her petite face. Her eyes are a light blue and stick out against her pale complexion. Her skirt is cut as short as regulations allow and her shirt hangs untucked in an intentional way that looks extremely cool on her. Her icy eyes drift around the room until they meet my own and she moves quietly towards me.

I gulp.

 

"Hey Penelope" she says and voice is silky soft.

 

"Oh, hallo Agatha" Penelope replies, obviously trying to sound unfazed. What is fazing her is beyond me, but it's something about her… Agatha…

She turns to me and looks me up and down.

 

"Simon Snow?" she asks, causing me to gulp again.

 

"That's me" I nod "your name is Agatha?"

 

"Agatha Wellbelove" she sits on the table, crossing one leg over the other and resting her weight on her hand and leaning towards me. "It's nice to meet you, Simon"

She says my name as if it's a secret, special and known only to us. I supress the shiver threatening to make its way up my spine.

 

"Thanks, you too…" I've never been good at formal conversation, or any really… I'm becoming flustered and when I get flustered, I get angry. Let's just say, it never ends well when I'm angry.

 

"So, I'm having a party" she's looking me in the eyes, refusing to look away, and I'm getting even more uncomfortable "To celebrate the start of a new school year and all…"

Penny, who had been forcibly looking down at her work but not writing anything, flicks her head up slightly. Agatha considers her for a moment before continuing.

 

"You're both invited of course, only people I invite personally are allowed to be there" she says, lifting her chin slightly to look down on us even more. After a moment's consideration, she takes one of Penny's markers off the table and uncaps it. She then makes a grab for my hand, causing me to pull it back quickly in reflex. She holds her hand out, silently asking me to give her mine. After a moment I oblige, her hand is small and soft, and she starts writing on my hand. When she finishes, I pull it back to see that she's written her phone number on it. Purple cursive underneath says; Agatha- Text me. I look back up to see her walking to the door, long hair swaying in rhythm with her hips. I gulp again. Next to me, Penelope lets out a sound like Harrumph.

 

"That was…" but I don't have the right words to finish the sentence so I fall silent, still looking to where the other girl disappeared.

 

"…Very Agatha" Penelope finishes for me, a sad look in her eyes but her face looks like it's been set with stone.

 

"What's that supposed to mean?" I ask, curious as to what's ruffled the person I assumed un-ruffle-able. She remains silent for so long I think she's not going to answer, but then;

 

"Agatha's always been very dramatic and pointedly polite" she sighs "Always the winning girl, the one everyone loves, the one who could get away with murder just by smiling". She starts drawing meaningless swirls in the margin of her exercise book.

 

"You say that like you know her well" I say cautiously, unsure. She studies me for a moment.

 

"I do" she mutters "I know her better that anyone in this stupid place"

It seems like something she's not comfortable talking to me about. Understandable, considering she'd barely known me for a week and all she really knows about me was that I have a worse record than anyone my age should. She seems deep in thought, scratching at a dent in the table with her fingernail, so I pull the piece of paper she'd been writing on and continue it for her.

 

>>>

 

The presentation goes well. I fumble most of my lines but Penelope sounds so official and proper and persuasive that it mostly goes unnoticed. As I walk back to my seat I realise this is the first time I've done well on a task in a long time, recently I hadn't even bothered attempting the work, let alone handing anything in. I'd lost motivation (what was the point if I was going to end up expelled anyway?) and it's not like I was pushed to complete it by my caretakers (no one seems to want me for long so I'm pretty sure every place I go, the main goal is just to get me to go to school) and I've never been all that smart. But maybe… maybe I could ask someone, someone like Penelope, to help me. Maybe I should try…

 

Ms Possibelf calls for the next presenters and I hear a shuffle at the back of the room. Everyone turns in their seats to watch as they get ready. Unfortunately, Penelope's large and bushy purple ponytail kinda gets in my way so I can't see them until they're right at the front. It's just one boy.

 

He's got longish hair, cut just below the chin, and a few loose locks fall over his face, jet black and parted neatly down the middle. He has a very pale complexion, almost greyish, and a long nose. His eyes are grey, they remind me of storm clouds, and kinda bored looking. He's quite tall, a few inches taller than me, and well built. The way he wears the uniform makes it look like it was specially designed for him, perfectly fitting and smart-looking in the cool sorta way that some girls love.

As he's gathering his notes together, someone hoots 'Ay Vampire!" and people laugh, his hands twitch at the nickname. That’s when I realise he's that guy Penelope warned me about… the Pitch guy…

 

"Now, now class" Ms Possibelf tuts "Mr Grimm-Pitch was bold enough to volunteer to do his presentation alone, considering we have an odd number of students, please be respectful"

The guy takes a deep breath before beginning his speech.

 

He makes Penelope and I look like toddlers reciting the alphabet.

 

His words are so moving and convincing I realise by the end that my mouth is wide open. When he finishes he looks around the room and our eye meet. He gives me a cold, narrow stare that, after a moment of surprise, I return. His face pulls into a cruel sneer and he swaggers back to his seat, taking in the silent amazement of the class and teacher.

 

I spend the rest of the class distracted, sketching aimlessly in my exercise book until I hear the bell ring. I walk to the door, first out of class, but someone bumps me harshly. I manage to catch myself on the doorframe but my book and pens aren't so lucky. They go flying into the corridor where everyone from the neighbouring classes, as well as my own, stampede in a rush to go home. The pens are crushed and ink spills all over the down-trodden pages of my book.

 

"Fuck" I snarl. Those were the only pens I had, and one of the only books too. I had to ask my current foster parents for the money to buy those, if they didn't hate me already, they will now. I look to see who shoved me and spot a dark-haired someone walking briskly away and melt into the crowd, and I'm willing to bet that that someone is Mr. Grimm-Pitch.

 

I wait until everyone's gone and then crouch down too see if anything's salvageable but everything's been completely ruined. I curse again and stand up, kicking the wreckage. I'm so mad, I'm shaking. Mad at the boy for shoving me, mad at the crowd for not looking where they step, mad at the teacher for not doing anything, mad at the whole fucking school. But I'm mostly mad at myself for thinking this place could be any different from the others. For thinking I could have a friend and actually do well at school. For thinking I had a chance.

 

I'm marching towards my locker when I hear quickened footsteps behind me. Turning my head slightly, I see Penelope Bunce jogging towards me with more books than she needs. I stop and let her catch up to me and when we met, she holds a book out to me. I take it. It's a fresh exercise book, the kind with already ruled margins (the best kind). I look back at her and she's counting out pens and pencils in her hand, she offers them to me but I don't take them yet.

 

"Are… are you sure?" I mutter, slightly bewildered. When she nods I stammer a thanks and gently clasp the pens.

 

"What are friends for?" she gives me a small smile and continues walking. I join her.

 

"Friends?" I ask sheepishly, feeling like something's glowing inside of me.

 

"Of course, why wouldn't we be?" she raises an eyebrow at me "and besides, we have a common enemy"

 

I laugh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Books with margins already in them are the best for lazy people like me.  
> Thank you guys so much for the support I'm already receiving, I was pretty shocked at how many people were leaving kudos on the very day I posted the first chapter of this. Again, TYSM! <3
> 
> Please leave your thoughts and opinions, constructive criticism and all that… :D  
> Thanks for reading.  
> Love,
> 
> ~Wishful


	3. Something Curious

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Baz, you assumed Simon couldn't seem anymore crazy and spontaneous?
> 
> You though wrong

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: much soccer

I lay in the spot I had claimed and sat in the first week of Highschool and every day since. It's under a large, shady tree in a secluded corner of the school, the kind where kids could go to smoke without ever being caught. And that's what I do. My father has hated cigarettes ever since my mother died in a fire, so I never smoke them around him. I'm not even particularly fond of them myself, but it's somewhat freeing to be doing something you're not allowed to right under the nose of the people who enforced the rule.

 

So I lie in the concealment of the tree's droopy branches, rolling an unlit cigarette between my fingers, and look out to what I could see of the school yard. People are milling around, chatting, or playing basketball on the court or doing whatever teenaged girls and boys want to do. I'm about to close my eyes and rest for a minute when I see someone running towards me. As they get closer I realise it's my cousin, Dev, and he looks more than mildly concerned.

I stand up, brushing the dirt from my trousers, and wait for him to come. He reaches me panting.

 

"BAZ! It's Rhys…!" he says, gulping for air. (Rhys is in our year, a bit too much of a 'good guy' to be in my inner circle usually, but he's a brilliant goal keeper so, as soccer captain, I know him that way) "Rhys is in a wheelchair!"  
 

"What?!" I ask, feeling my eyes widen. This doesn't sound good. "What the fuck do you mean Dev?"

 

"I mean" he spits, still out of breath "that he's got two big-ass plaster casts on his legs coz he went and broke them and now he can't walk so he's in a bloody wheelchair!"

 

I swear profusely, panicking slightly. Our soccer league is about to start and we've been training since the end of last year's. My team has come close to unbeatable, partly because of Rhys's great record of goalkeeping, and now he's gone and rendered himself useless. I'll need to hold a try-out ASAP. But where am I supposed to find a good keeper to train in time for the league in less than a month?

 

"I need to go sort this out…" I mutter, running a hand through my hair. Dev nods before running off to, no doubt, tell the rest of the team. I speed walk to the principal's office where I find his secretary outside. I take a deep breath and force myself into composure, trying to calm my breathing.

 

"Excuse me, I was wondering if I could make some last-minute arrangements?" I ask, trying not to sound on edge. The secretary looks up, eyebrows raising when she sees me.

 

"Mr Pitch…?!" she says before processing what I had said "For the soccer team I presume?"

 

"Please, I need to hold an urgent tryout for a new goalkeeper, our current one is indisposed, and I was thinking of doing it afterschool on the football pitch?" I say. She writes it down.

 

"Yes, the pitch is free this afternoon, would you like me to make an announcement over the PA?" she asks. I nod again.

 

"Very well Mr. Pitch, I'll make the announcement during the next class" she says and I stride out of the room, breathing slightly easier than before.

 

>>>

 

They're all terrible.

With every person trying out I lose more and more of my already minute supply of hope. There's absolutely no way I can train up any of these guys in time for the match next week. It's the qualifier game so it could be easy, but it matters way too much for us to win for me to simply take a chance by putting a terrible player in.  
I sigh.

 

During the last guy's tryout, Coach Mac comes up to talk to me.

 

"Baz, I know you don't think anyone of these fellas are good enough for your team, but you need to pick one or you can't play at all" he says, watching as ball after ball gets past the scrawny guy standing in goal. Coach is the only teacher I let call me 'Baz'.

 

"Yeah, I know…" I mutter "I just don't know which guy is the least terrible"

 

"Well, I gotta get going" he says, checking his watch "you better make a decision before tomorrow so you can start training 'im up"

He walks away, leaving me swearing under my breath at this whole situation. At Rhys, at Watford and the terrible goal-keepers it supplies, at whatever the fuck caused Rhys to break his legs and at my terrible luck.

Of course I'd find myself in this predicament.

 

The team and the people who tried-out stand, waiting for me to tell them what's happening.

 

"I'll think about this overnight and let you all know tomorrow" I say, thinking about going home and venting to my younger sister; Mordelia about this whole shitfest.

"There will be training right after school tomorrow with the whole team so whoever is picked is expected to be there. That's all"

 

Everyone ambles away, chatting and joking tiredly, and I'm left to pack up the equipment. When I'm stuffing the soccer balls back into the bag, I notice someone running towards me. I assume it's just someone who forgot his bag or something and I keep packing up, but as they get loser I realise who it is.

 

Snow.

 

Weeks have passed since I'd knocked Simon Snow's books and pens out of his arms and walked away, hearing the satisfying crunch of breaking pens. He seems to be keeping mostly to himself (and Bunce) so I still have no idea what he's like, not that I care…  
I know he likes to hang out with Bunce, to listen to her and occasionally speak himself. I've seen them across the yard at break times, chilling by the fence, just talking and eating. I also know he's dumb. Well… maybe not. But he's brash and impulsive, not giving much thought to his decisions and movements. The final thing I know about him, and I admit this with extreme distaste, is that he's good-looking.   
 

He's got a strong jawbone, tanned skin and glittery blue eyes. His hair is -there's no other word for it- luscious, golden-y bronze curls in a hair style that suits him perfectly. His freckles and moles are endearing and he's covered with them. You can see them on his arms.

 

He's here now, in a sports shirt that means you can see a bit of his tawny, freckled collarbones, and shorts that make his legs look longer than they actually are.

 

"W-wait" he pants, out of breath "I'm here to… try out"

I huff, surprised yet amused.

 

"You missed it" I say, voice flat. His eyebrows are furrowed in his attempt catch his breath, he must have ran a long way pretty fast.

 

"I know" he says having almost caught his breath "forgot"

I snicker cruelly.

 

"Forgot?! Ha. Too bad, I don't have time to waste on you Snow" I spit. Seriously, why does he think I'll drop everything let him have a shot?!

 

"Please?" he asks, looking at me pleadingly with his bluebell eyes.

Why do I think I'll drop everything let him have a shot?!

I growl quietly before replying;

 

"Fine, but only because everyone else was terrible and I'm desperate to find the best person I can" I hiss. 'Yes, that’s why I want to' I decide.

He perks up, running to the goal we used at the tryouts. I mutter profanities and unpack some soccer balls.

After numerous trials and tests, I come to a conclusion:

 

Simon Snow is a bloody good football player.

 

Honestly, he'd make an impressive player anywhere on the field, but we need a goalkeeper and he's great at it.

 

He jogs over to me from the goal with the ball, seemingly eager to hear what my verdict.

 

"How did you get to be so damn good at this game?" I snarl quietly. Snow's eyes widen excitedly.

 

"So I'm in?!" he asks, practically bursting. I roll my eyes.

 

"Yeah… I guess so" I admit. Snow smiles big and I flinch. He promptly runs around, collecting equipment and returning it to the store room. I watch him, annoyed, before saying;

 

"So you better be at training tomorrow after school"   
He looks at me, bronze locks falling onto his face slightly.

 

"And don't be late"

 

He nods, walking away.   
I watch him go.

 

>>>

 

The game the next week goes well. We get paired with a challenging team but our team is relentless, refusing to give up even when we struggle to get past the opposition's strong defence. I manage to score a few goals though, pushing Watford towards a win.   
It's a surprisingly warm day today and everyone gets quite hot and sweaty. Soon players are taking off their shirts to cool off. Which is unfortunate because, being quite incredibly gay, I get… distracted.

It doesn't matter though, as I've scored a few goals and our goalkeeper hasn't let a single one of the opposition's many attempts of scoring into the net. The rest of our defence is kind of weak, so Snow has a lot of work to do, but he triumphs every time. It's honestly very impressive, I hate myself for admitting it.

 

Finally, when the last whistle blows, the whole team runs into a huddle to celebrate our victory. The team and our supporters clap ferociously for Snow, who pulls off his own shirt, waving it around like a lasso as a sort of victory dance and I can't help but stare at his bare torso. He faces the crowd, back to me and the rest of the team, taking in their applause. Then I see it.

 

On Snow's back is a large tattoo. Or, rather, two large tattoos.

Red dragon-like wings protrude from his back, at his shoulder blades. They've been drawn to look like they're unfolding, about to spread out so he can fly away.

I feel my jaw drop.

 

He approaches the rest of the team and I, grinning. Someone next to me shouts;

"Awesome tatts dude!"  
The team chatters and laughs in agreement. Except me;

I can only blush.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just before someone corrects it, I know that from what Rainbow Rowell implies, Rhys is disabled and has to use a wheelchair all the time in Carry On. But I just wanted to do what I did in this chapter because I didn't want to have to make up a character when I could just bend canon like this. 
> 
> Ok I love the idea of Simon with those tattoos. There will be more on that later. The backstory etc.  
> Also, thanks for putting up with all the soccer stuff in this chapter. My family is full of soccer fans therefore I like it a fair bit so it doesn't matter to me at all having it feature a bit in one of my fics. I tried to not go into it too much so that I wouldn't bore y'all who don't care about the sport to death.
> 
> Anyway, thank you for all the love this story has been getting. I honestly thought it wasn't that good :|  
> Love,
> 
> ~Wishful


	4. Note from Author

Hey Guys!  
First of all I just wanna thank you SO MUCH for the support this has been getting! It means the world to me <3

Second of all I regret to say that this story will be going on hiatus for a while. I'm not sure how long for yet but at most you'll have to wait until the start of next year. (that seems like a long time but it'll fly by, trust me)  
My reasoning is much the same as most people when they go on hiatus; a lot is going on right now. I've currently got at least 5 fanfictions going right now and that was a big mistake :P   
I want to focus on 2 or 3 of them instead of stretching myself too thin trying too balance mover 5 fics AND school stuff.

DON'T WORRY I'M NOT STOPPING THIS STORY! I'm just pausing it temporarily.  
Thanks for understanding!  
Love,

 

~Wishful


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